Out of the Past

CHAPTER 21

José Cardozo in the Superintendent’s office at Cliffton threw up his hands in protest. He had been brought down here upon an accusation that was no accusation at all. If they did not accuse him, then why did they bring him here? And if they accused him, where in the name of all the saints was their evidence?

Superintendent Phelps said weightily,

“Miss Doris Hale and the young chap Hosken have both identified you as the foreigner they saw come out of the Jolly Fishermen on Wednesday night at ten o’clock. The girl gave us practically the whole number of your car. I have now to tell you that the girl who was with you has also been identified. As Marie Bonnet. Domestic help at the boarding-house where Mr. Field was staying. She has made a statement.”

Cardozo sprang to his feet. Then he sat down again.

“But if she has made a statement, it will prove that I am innocent! She will say that she was with me! Is there any harm in that?” The greenish grey of his skin was giving way to a more natural colour. “Look, I will tell you the whole truth. I did not wish to do so, because I could see that the affair would be an embarrassment, and why should one plunge oneself into embarrassments? You have a proverb, ‘Silence is gold.’ It is a good one. I have the idea that I will keep my golden silence. But if I cannot do so, then I will keep nothing back- I will tell all the truth.”

The Superintendent remarked that it would be just as well if he did.

Inspector Colt looked down at the papers in front of him- statement of Doris Hale-statement of S. Hosken-statement of Marie Bonnet.

Inspector Abbott’s pose was an easier one. He regarded José Cardozo with a steady meditative gaze. If José were contemplating any departure from the truth, it was the sort of gaze that might cause him discomfort.

Cardozo went on with his story. He had done his duty as a brother and as a citizen. Felipe had disappeared. Had he not done all he could to trace him? Had he not been to Scotland Yard? When he was shown a body which resembled that of his brother, was he not to say what he most truly thought? And when he afterwards remembered a thing which put the identification in doubt, was he not to go to the police and tell them that he must now have his doubts? Where in all this was there anything wrong?

This being taken as a rhetorical question, he received no answer to it. Frank Abbott said,

“Better get on to why you came down here. We know that you had suspicions that Field had something to do with your brother’s disappearance, and that you had put Pearson on to trace him. We know that Pearson was able to furnish you with his address down here by lunch-time on Wednesday. You therefore had plenty of time to reach Cliffton by Wednesday evening. I take it you now admit that this is what you did. Suppose you go on from there. What time did you get here?”

“It was a little after nine. I leave my car at the end of the road. I walk along and look for the address I have been given. There is a girl who has come out of one of the houses. I ask her if she knows which is Sea View, and she points to the house from which she has come. I ask about Alan Field, and she says he has gone out. I ask when he will be back, and she says, ‘Who knows?’ Then I ask will she take a note to make an appointment for the morning, and she says yes, when she is ready to go in, but that will not be just yet. So I say what about a little friendly drink together, and she says it will be nice, so we go down to the Jolly Fishermen. And that is how your Miss Hale and Mr. Hosken see us there!” He beamed and spread out his hands. “Not a very criminal affair, I think!”

Frank Abbott leaned sideways and picked up Marie Bonnet’s statement.

“Not so far,” he said, “but the night is young. Alan Field would still be alive, both according to the medical evidence and the probabilities. Even though the stretch of beach below the cliff walk is a fairly sheltered one, it does not seem very likely that anyone would stab him there in daylight, but by the time you came out of the Fishermen it would be dark enough. Where did you go from there?”

José’s alarm returned. He had been getting along so well. He had a sanguine nature, and he had begun to feel that he was well on the way to being out of the wood. But now there was the question of this girl’s statement. What had she said? If she had been foolish enough to lie, to say that he had driven her back to Sea View and she had said goodnight to him and gone in, then he would be left without an alibi-his position would be dangerous indeed. But if she had told the truth, or at any rate part of it, how was he to know how much or what part she had told? He must play for safety. But which way did safety lie? He said in a jerky voice,

“How do I know if this girl has told the truth? I can tell you what we did, but I cannot make you believe me.”

Frank Abbott went on looking at him in that cool, rather quizzical way.

“Well, and what did you do?”

“We drove back to the end of the road where the house is, and we went for a walk along the cliff-and that is the truth.”

Frank Abbott glanced at the sheet in his hand.

“So Marie Bonnet says.”

José‘s confidence came again with a rush.

“It is the truth, as I told you. But sometimes a girl is afraid she will get into trouble.”

“For taking a walk?”

Cardozo threw up his hands.

“Her employer is strict-she has told me so. She must be in before eleven.”

“And wasn’t she?”

José looked knowing.

“There is a trick about that. She is not the only girl to use it. Before we go for our walk she returns to the house. Miss Anning lets her in and locks the door.”

“And what does Marie do?”

“She goes to her room and she waits until Miss Anning comes upstairs. Then she gets out of the dining-room window.”

“I see. And you go for your walk. What time does she really get in?”

Cardozo smiled.

“That I do not know. We are not in a hurry. It is fine, it is warm, we are pleased with one another’s company. One does not keep the eye upon the clock.”

Frank Abbott looked at the end of Marie Bonnet’s statement-“It was fine, it was warm. I do not know what time it was when we came back. Why should one always trouble oneself about the time?”